January 22nd, 2002

diner friends

(no subject)

"I was adopted." Lance's eyes widened in surprise. [i]Whoa... I didn't see that coming...

Then how did... who is... why...?[/i]

"But I still loved 'em, ya know? They loved me too..." Lance nodded and sighed. Yes, of course Pietro's foster parents had loved him. It was all a part of the great, cosmic deal... wasn't it? [i]So he'd never understand... Well, you never expected anyone to understand before...

They loved him. And now they're dead. Life is so tragic that way.[/i]

"Then my real father showed up..."

Lance looked down at Pietro, curled tightly into himself, speaking and shaking. He found himself tuning out the words and listening to the emotions instead. Fear, anger, grief, shame... [i]He reminds me of... something. A story. A... legend? A fable... a thing... a...

Quicksilver. Not Quicksilver as his codename, but the legend of Quicksilver. What'd he do? She do...

She was a ghost. A poltergeist. A happy poltergeist who just played funny tricks on people, not like the mean one in that freaky movie.

That's like Pietro. because he's... insubstantial. Because he's always moving so fast. Like a ghost. Yeah. And now... now he's solid.

And it's so weird.[/i]

Lance smiled at the thought of Pietro the ghost and looked down. His hand was still on Pietro's back and it felt reassuringly warm and solid. Like a real person.

"He's been missing for weeks, ever since Aster--" Lance looked back down at Pietro when he caught the beginnings of the word "asteroid". His eyes narrowed. [i]Was he going to say... Asteroid M?[/i]
zoot

Shoot me...

Ooooh, please. Shoot me. Ouchie, motherfuckers. My head HURTS! It's not fair!

Ok, I sound about 5 years old (except that I don't think a 5 year old would be immature enough to swear the way I do). Ha, so today I was walking down the hall with Amy... *walkwalkwalk* And we were talking about stuff... *talktalktalk* And I used the phrase "No shit".

And, like the creepy fucker he is, Mr. Dzeda is right behind us and he says "No kidding. In the school we all have good language." And he was half-joking but... I don't even have him for class! And it's weird being corrected by a teacher you've never had. Not embarrassing (I might have thought it was embarrassing back when I cared about what people thought of me. But, if I can walk around all day with a purple sheet around my waist, then I can stand being corrected by teachers). Just weird. And Amy went off on a tirade, which is no big surprise.

Amy and I don't really communicate anymore. The only thing we really have in common is bitchiness. And who wants to share that? Heh... I think she wants more friends who care about clothes, makeup, theatre, and acting like you're independent. Since none of those are of great interest to me, I guess I'm just not quality material. Hah. I need new friends. Being tossed around makes me feel pretty worthless.

I still want to be Amy's friend. I just... I think on some level she's bringing me down. My exam grades sucked. It's not her fault, but it is mine for feeling like I need to emulate her apathy.

Remember when you used to care about things?
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